


Buttons

by ForYou_InSilence



Category: Actor RPF, Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Frottage, Intercrural Sex, M/M, PWP, Rimming, buttons as foreplay, just an excuse to write porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-13 05:03:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13563420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForYou_InSilence/pseuds/ForYou_InSilence
Summary: Armie gets a little sidetracked (as we all did) by Timmy's button-festooned sweater.





	Buttons

**Author's Note:**

> I would hope it would not need to be said, but this is a work of fiction. I don't know these dudes, I just like to imagine them in sexy situations. 
> 
> This has not been beta'd, and it was hastily written. Any errors or erroneously misplaced body parts are all my doing. :)
> 
> ETA: For some reason, I can't get the link to work to post a pic of the sweater in question in the body of the fic, but there is one in the comments section if you want to take a peek. ;)

 

Finally finished for the day, Armie followed Timmy to his room, sauntering along behind, slow and in no hurry, enjoying the view in front of him. It had been another endless day of promo, monotonous and mind-numbing. The only highlight had been. . .

 

_Buttons._

 

Timmy had walked into the meeting room that morning, his entire demeanour and dress, subdued. They were all dead-ass tired, and so it appeared as if Timmy were dressing the part. All black, in the high neck, long-sleeved sweater, black pants, white sneakers. Somber but comfortable; seeing him like that made Armie want to take him in his arms and cuddle him.

 

That was, until Timmy had turned around and Armie had caught a view of the back of him. A seemingly endless row of buttons dotted the back of the form-fitting black sweater Timmy had chosen to wear. They drew attention to, the long elegant slope of Timmy’s back. All day, Armie had wanted to run his hand down, let them bump against his palm like the ridge of each vertebrae of Timmy’s spine. They were driving him mad. Each moment the light caught, flashed, against their golden brilliance, Armie’s cock twitched in his pants.

 

Track suits went a long way in hiding a multitude of sins— and half-stiff cocks.

 

The hallway was deserted as Timmy fumbled to get his key card out of his wallet. Armie stepped in close, crowding him against the door.

 

“Jesus,” Timmy’s laugh was bright, but edged with nerves. His elbow struck Armie in the gut, trying in vain to get him to step back. “I’m trying.”

 

Armie loved that his _exuberance_ still made Timmy skittish. He was never certain it wasn’t more of a game to Timmy, but Armie was always willing to play along.

 

“Open the door, Timmy,” Armie’s voice was low, demanding, hot lips pressed to back of Timmy’s neck. Armie watched him shudder, his fingers trembling as he finally slid the card in the lock.

 

The room was a mess, clothes lying everywhere. Typical. It made Armie chuckle. He didn’t care.

 

They had  little over an hour before they were meeting everyone for dinner. Armie would have liked to have had more time, but beggars couldn’t be choosers; he’d take what he could get.

 

And what he wanted was Timmy.

 

As soon as humanly possible, Timmy was naked from the waist down, lying on his stomach in the center of the bed. Armie, naked from the waist up, perched on his knees between Timmy’s splayed thighs.  Timmy squirmed, restless and needy, as Armie ran his hands up the creamy skin of his thighs, over the lush curve of his ass, up to just the hem of the sweater he still wore.

 

Buttoned up tight.

 

Cinched. Restricted. Confined _. Bound._

 

“You wore this on purpose, didn’t you?” Armie growled, leaning down, biting the crest of Timmy’s ass, just hard enough to hurt.

 

Timmy whimpered, shaking his head against the pillow beneath him in defiance as he  lifted his hips, wordlessly urging Armie to get on with whatever it was he was going to do. Impatient in all things, always.

 

Armie planted his fists on either side of Timmy’s chest and leaned over him, close to Timmy’s ear.

 

“You’ve been driving me crazy all day in this fucking thing.”

 

Armie’s voice was a dark promise and Timmy could only answer with a half-broken sob as he ground his hips into the mattress beneath him.

 

“Fuck, Armie,” Timmy was breathless. It never ceased to amaze Armie how responsive he was.

 

“Shh, it’s okay,” Armie ran his nose along the back of Timmy’s neck, snuffling into the hair at his nape. “I’ve got you.”

 

“Please,” Timmy shifted on the bed, pulling one knee up, exposing himself shamelessly.

 

Armie knew his smile was feral and that it didn’t matter if Timmy could see it or not.

 

“All the begging in the world won’t help you now, T.” Armie leaned back on his heels, and finally set in at the buttons he’d been obsessing over all day.

 

“Promises, promises.”

 

Armie could tell Timmy was going for a casual retort but the breathlessness of his words contradicted the impression.

 

Armie ran his hand down the center of Timmy’s back, each button cool against his palm, a poor facsimile of Timmy’s spine. Touching them with his hands wasn’t enough, so Armie leaned in again, starting at the top, to lick at each one, pulling them into his mouth. The clack of each one against the edges of his teeth competing with the sound of Timmy’s laboured breathing.

 

He pulled on them until he could feel the tension in the strings holding them each on, wanting nothing but to bite, twist and rip each one free of their bind.

 

“Hey!” Timmy twisted, trying to pull away, feeling Armie’s intent. “I love this sweater.”

 

Armie’s laugh was low. “So, do I.”

 

“I couldn’t tell,” Timmy chided, looking at Armie over his shoulder, a brow quirked too knowingly.

 

The smack Armie planted on Timmy’s ass came as a surprise as he gasped and arched and melted back into the bed with a sigh.

 

“Stay still and your precious sweater may survive.”

 

Willing to save the sweater’s demise for another day, Armie drew his fingers back up to Timmy’s nape, as one by one, he slowly unbuttoned. Each one seemed demure, chaste, in Armie’s over-large fingers. It was intoxicating to watch each button slip through its corresponding hole to reveal skin, creamy and unblemished.

 

Armie kissed and licked, as he went. Rubbing his face against the skin as it came into view. Timmy squirmed beneath him, mewled and panted. His hands were stretched forward, above his head, scrabbling for purchase on the mattress against Armie’s assault.

 

Finally Armie came to the last button and slowly peeled the two halves apart. Timmy’s back finally revealed, pale and endless, marred only by a red blush down the center from the scruff of Armie’s beard.

 

Armie growled in appreciation, stretching up, and placing the entire weight of his body along the length of Timmy’s. Timmy hitched his thighs further apart, accommodating, making room; welcoming Armie to do as he pleased.

 

“I’m going to fuck you,” Armie promised, rubbing his beard against Timmy’s cheek.

 

“Yes,” Timmy could barely speak, from arousal and from the weight of Armie pressing him down.

 

He turned his head, trying to catch Armie’s mouth. It was awkward and messy, but they both loved it.

 

Timmy bit and sucked on Armie’s lower lip. “Like this. I want it like this,” Timmy forced the words into Armie’s mouth, his breath now Armie’s own. “I want to feel all of you. Against me. In me.”

 

The words were like gas to a fire and Armie couldn’t help but grind his hips into Timmy’s ass, to grab a handful of hair and pull, lifting his head from the bed and worshiping the arch of his neck the position exposed.

 

Timmy felt like a live wire beneath him. Trapped. Tight and unable to move, but ready to break and explode at any moment. Armie lived for the feeling of Timmy at his mercy just as much as it seemed Timmy craved the same.

 

Armie didn’t want to let go, but knew the clock was ticking. With one last nip at Timmy’s chin, he shifted, moving to the side table where he knew Timmy had stashed the lube.

 

Back on his knees, Armie took in the sight of Timmy. The pale skin of his back framed by the wings of the sweater left in place. Armie had never seen anything so perfect and the renewed awareness of that fact left him breathless.

 

Armie’s cock was begging for escape, an inelegant tent pulled tight against the track pants he still wore. His balls ached with the pressure and need to release. He ran one hand up the back of Timmy’s thigh, delighting in his responsive sigh of pleasure, as his other hand deftly untied the bottoms and pulled them down to allow his cock to spring free. The cool air against that overheated skin was a relief, tempering his arousal, at least for the moment.

 

He placed the bottle of lube at Timmy’s side before grabbing him by the hips and pulling him back, so that he was more on his knees, ass high in the air. Timmy never minded being manhandled.

 

Always so willing, so eager, to follow Armie’s lead, wherever he went. Until this time.

 

“No, not like that. I want,” Timmy twisted, breaking from the grip Armie had on his hip, returning to lying flat on the bed. “I want you to fuck me into the mattress, Armie. I meant it.” Timmy turned his head, catching Armie’s eye. “We don’t have enough time. Together. Not now. Not- ever. Just. Please.”

 

Armie knew what he meant. This was the last leg of promo for the film. This would be the last days where they would have an ‘excuse’ to see one another. It was the constant elephant in the room that neither one ever wanted to confront.

 

_How was this going to work when all of this was over?_

 

“I know, T,” Armie whispered, his throat tight. There was so much he wanted to say, but he didn’t know how. “I get it. I know.”

 

Timmy’s eyes were closed tight as Armie leaned in, needing to kiss him. To make him understand— somehow— this was all going to be okay.

 

“It’s not over, T. I promise.”

 

Armie whispered against Timmy’s mouth, wrapping his arms around him, hauling him, crushed and defenseless even tighter against his chest. They were a twisted, painful wreck, clinging to one another, helpless against all the uncertainty. Armie ignored the taste of tears, cupping Timmy’s head in his palm, cradling him in a punishing grip.

 

“I promise.” Armie ground out against Timmy’s insistent mouth.

 

What had been playful, was now tinged with desperation. Timmy bit Armie’s lip, the taste of blood now overriding the tears, as his fingers dug into Armie’s scalp, nails scraping, pulling his hair in both hands.

 

Armie tore away from his grip with a gasp, the aching need and want taking front-seat once more.

 

“Over. On your knees,” Armie ordered, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, not surprised to see the pink tinge of blood-streaked spittle glistening across his knuckles.

 

Timmy rolled back to his stomach, stretching flat once more, the sweater twisting around his torso, hanging loose from one arm.

 

“No, on your knees.” Armie demanded, biting at the knob of Timmy’s shoulder, pulling on his hip once more.

 

_Up. And up. And up._

 

Timmy struggled but more for show than anything as he eventually relinquished, pushing up to his hands and knees, rocking back and forth in a show that he knew drove Armie mad before dropping his head to rest on his forearms.

 

It never failed to unnerve him, the awe of Timmy’s complete and total surrender to Armie like this. He’d never had a lover so eager to allow Armie free rein. _Ever_. It was humbling and the fucking hottest thing Armie had ever witnessed.

 

“Fucking gorgeous tease.” Armie’s voice grew dark and stormy at the sight in front of him.

 

He could hear Timmy’s stuttered breaths as he shifted his knees, sliding them further apart in welcome to Armie’s hungry gaze. Timmy knew Armie; knew just how to drive him wild. What his teasing, shifting hips invited him to imagine.

 

_Invited him to do._

 

The sight was over the top. Timmy’s ass, high in the air, each round cheek unmarred, ivory perfection. The boy never went in the sun, there was no line of demarcation to note a tan. Or what little sun he got, was he ever clothed? That thought had the ability to derail Armie, so he catalogued it, pushed it back to inquire another time.

 

Armie gave his cock one long slow stroke, from base to tip and back again, fighting the urge to plow Timmy raw. It was a struggle, and he took a deep breath, squeezing the base of his cock, pulling hard on his balls in order to buy himself a few more precious minutes. With some semblance of control, Armie shifted, lying on his own stomach between Timmy’s knees. Up on his elbows, his mouth was in perfect range of Timmy’s ass.

 

Spreading both hands wide, he cupped the cheeks of Timmy’s ass, squeezed and kneaded each tight muscle. He leaned in, rubbing the scruff of his beard along the crease separating each. Timmy twitched rolled his hips, gasping Armie’s name.

 

The scent of Timmy there was intoxicating. Armie was addicted the first moment he’d done this to Timmy, in that tiny apartment in Crema, in a bed too small but where it was all they ever needed in the world. Armie ran his nose along Timmy’s cleft, pushing it up against the base of his balls that hung tight from below.

 

“Armie, god, please.” Timmy moaned, struggling against Armie’s hold to get his mouth where he wanted it most.

 

“Shh, baby.” Armie hushed, low, against Timmy’s ass. “The smell of you, Timmy-” his nose made another pass, snuffling, dragging his beard along behind the tender flesh. “I could stay here all day.”

 

Armie could hear the rasp of Timmy’s hair, imagined how he looked, thrashing his head against the pillows as he shoved his hips back.

 

The chuckle came from deep in the pit of his stomach, low and dark.

 

“What do you want, T? Tell me.”

 

Timmy’s fist struck the bed in a silent fit of frustration. “You know,” Timmy groaned, stopped short as Armie once again snuffled against Timmy’s nearly hairless balls. “Fuck, Arm, you know what I want.”

 

Armie did know. Timmy loved when Armie put his mouth on him. He had gasped and writhed and come all over himself more than once as Armie ate him out. It was the fucking sexiest thing Armie had ever seen.

 

“Then say it, T.” Armie’s teeth dug into the flesh of one cheek. He licked at the indentations he left, making Timmy gasp.

 

“You mouth. Jesus, Armie, eat me up.” Timmy arched his back as he extended back over his knees, gifting his ass for Armie’s feasting mouth. Armie knew his hamstrings must be on the verge of snapping under the stress of the stretch, but fuck all if it wasn’t the hottest thing he’d ever seen.

 

Armie didn’t have to be told twice. In one slow torturous swipe, he laved Timmy’s cleft with the broad of his tongue, from perineum to coccyx. He heard what must have been Timmy’s head slam against the bed before he dove back in.

 

His thumbs held him open, his tongue darted and licked around the center of Timmy’s pleasure, until Timmy was an incoherent mess. Timmy’s hips stuttered, this thighs trembled and Armie could hear he was on the verge of tears before he finally planted the point of his tongue dead center.

 

Timmy jolted as if he’d received an electrical shock, but Armie didn’t relent, moaning in pleased response. The rim of his asshole was so hot, so tight, Armie felt the pressure of that knowledge in the base of his own cock, and couldn’t stop from grinding his hips into the duvet, hoping for some bit of relief.

 

Armie loved the sounds Timmy made, loved that he couldn’t keep still. His hips twisting and thrashing, trying to keep Armie’s wandering tongue right where he needed. Armie had never had a lover so open and willing to abandon themselves to their lover’s keeping. It was precious in a way Armie had never known.

 

The sound of Timmy was intoxicating but the taste of Timmy was addictive. Armie distantly registered his own animalistic noises, as he probed Timmy’s ass with voracious intent. It was a beautiful mess. Armie’s beard and chin were spit-soaked and it dripped down to Timmy’s balls, leaving a growing wet spot on the mattress below. Armie was matching with his own pre-cum against the duvet.

 

Soon Armie added a finger, slipping past the tight ring of muscle as Timmy groaned in grateful bliss. Armie held back, catching a breath as he watched Timmy rock, back and forth, fucking himself on Armie’s finger. The sight of being swallowed by Timmy’s body made Armie’s head swim, his vision grew dim and hazy at the edges. _Bliss._

 

The tension in Timmy’s body was electric. Every movement, every muttered curse and whimpered breath drove Armie mad.

 

“Fuck, Armie. Oh, _fuck_.”

 

Armie smiled, curling his finger, crooking it _just so_ as he added his tongue alongside, probing until he slipped around the rim and his tongue was inside. Timmy shot up on his hands in an instant.

 

“Shit, shit, no no nononono, stop.” His voice was frantic, his hands scrambling, one reaching back for Armie’s head, the other going straight for his cock. “ _Fuck.”_

 

Timmy was coming. Armie could feel it, from the inside out, the contractions against his finger as he desperately attempted to get his tongue deeper.

 

“Jesus,” Timmy whimpered, collapsing all at once.

 

Armie sighed, his head resting against Timmy’s ass. His finger still inside of him, his own cock throbbing, Armie still felt blissful in the moment.

 

“I’m so sorry,” Timmy grunted softly as Armie removed his finger, placing a kiss to each smooth cheek before sliding up the length of Timmy’s back, covering him like a blanket.

 

“No apologies,” Armie insisted, kissing Timmy’s ear. “It’s so fucking hot, knowing I can do that to you.”

 

His words were reinforced with a tiny thrust of his hips. His cock slid perfectly between Timmy’s still slick ass cheeks.

 

“It’s embarrassing.” Timmy shimmied, allowing his legs to fall apart as much as Armie’s hold would allow. “I still want you to.”

 

Armie buried his face in Timmy’s nape. _This kid_. His whole body was still trembling, coming down from an orgasm Armie knew was intense. To come practically untouched like that. He also knew how over-sensitive Timmy became after, but here he was, willing to let Armie take him even when it would be uncomfortable for him.

 

“No, baby, this is good. This is all I need,” Armie practically crooned, reeling in the pleasure he had given to Timmy by slowly rolling his hips. “You’re all I need.”

 

He shouldn’t have said it. That was the sort of sentiment they had silently agreed never to share. The thought that they didn’t— couldn’t— hurt more than either were willing to admit.

 

Timmy’s arms came up and wrapped around Armie’s head, holding him pressed against the back of his neck. Armie kissed him, over and over, trying somehow to convey all he wanted to say without words.

 

One of Timmy’s hands slipped away, Armie turned, watching as he patted around on the bed beside him until he found what he was looking for. He held up the bottle of lube.

 

“Aw, Timmy,” Armie moaned, touched by Timmy’s unshakeable willingness. “I’m good.”

 

“Let me at least,” Timmy tried to shift from beneath Armie’s weight. To roll over and offer some sort of reciprocation.

 

It wasn’t a lie that Armie wanted nothing more than to bury himself balls deep in Timmy’s pliant body, but he wouldn’t do that at the expense of ever making him uncomfortable.

 

“No. Here,” Armie took the bottle of lube from Timmy’s hand.

 

He sat up, on his knees, straddling Timmy’s slim thighs. Timmy’s ass had bloomed a lovely shade of pink from the burn of Armie’s stubble and Armie’s cock twitched at the sight. He smeared the cool slick up  and down his cock before settling back over Timmy’s outstretched body.

 

With one hand, Armie maneuvered his cock into the tight pocket between Timmy’s thighs, high up against his perineum. It was a smooth tight fit and Armie’s breath caught in his chest. His eyes squeezed shut as he gave a shallow thrust, the head of his cock pressing up against Timmy’s balls. It wasn’t as good as being inside Timmy— nothing ever was— but it was enough.

 

“I wish you would just-” Timmy cried, rubbing his head back and forth against the pillow; his body tense with frustration. He pressed up on his arms. “Fuck me, Armie. I want to feel it. I need to.”

 

Something about Timmy’s desperation clutched at Armie’s chest. This whole situation was untenable and not knowing what the future would bring or how it was all going to work out was too much. Armie understood, but he wasn’t willing to use Timmy to that end.

 

“It’s good, Tim. It’s okay.”

 

Armie pressed him back down, thrusting harder, feeding on the tension and frustration.

 

“Fuck me, Armie. Fuck me, please,” Timmy’s pleas were muffled against the pillow; a non-stop litany that amped Armie to an increasing level.

 

“I am. I’m fucking you, Timmy. Can you feel me?” Armie rose up on his fists, his eyes captivated by the sight of his own cock, sliding in and out from between Timmy’s thighs. Lube and pre-cum shining in the lamplight. “So good, Tim. So good. Do you feel it? How tight you are? So deep, I’m in you so deep.”

 

“God,” Timmy whined, his hips trying in vain to thrust against Armie’s assault, but trapped, helpless.

 

“I’m going to come, Timmy. I’m going to fill you up.”

 

“Do it, fucking do it.” Timmy cried and Armie knew he meant it. Wanted it. Needed it.

 

Armie reached down, took his cock in hand, pulling tight, hard and fast. He could feel the pressure build, deep in his stomach, in his lower back. He wanted nothing more than to close his eyes and give in, but he didn’t want to miss a second of any of this.

 

Fist flying over his cock, he used his other hand, thumb and fingers, to spread Timmy’s cheeks apart. His hole was only a bit relaxed, slightly pink from his earlier ministrations, but Armie leaned in, pressing the tip of his cock against the resistance.

 

Again, Timmy shifted, trying to give Armie room, begging with his body for him to take what he wanted.

 

“Do it.”

 

Just as suddenly as Timmy had earlier, Armie was coming. Spurting against Timmy’s twitching asshole, all along the crack of his ass. A beautiful mess.

 

Armie took a shuddering breath, mesmerised by the sight as he smeared his cock up and down Timmy’s cleft until he was twitching in oversensitivity.

 

Finally, he collapsed to his side, breathless, staring at a blissed out Timmy.

 

Timmy shivered. The sweater still clung to one shoulder and Armie reached over to gently pull the other side up over his naked skin.

 

“I really do love this sweater,” Timmy’s voice was low, his eyes pinched and tight.

 

Armie leaned in, kissing him tenderly, with all the words he couldn't say. Understanding all that Timmy wouldn't.

 

“I do, too.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> It's been approximately 287 years since I've written porn. Apologies if I missed the mark.
> 
>  
> 
> I'm foryou-insilence on Tumblr.


End file.
